


escape, into our night

by intyalote



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/F, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Silver Snow Route, Survivor Guilt, general musings on the point (or lack thereof) of war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26570797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intyalote/pseuds/intyalote
Summary: Edelgard had been the only person who didn't fit neatly into Dorothea's world. Now that she's dead, what will Dorothea do?
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24
Collections: Darkest Night 2020





	escape, into our night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [surprisepink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/surprisepink/gifts).



> This started out as an idea quite removed from what it eventually became, but I hope you like it regardless! I chose to set it in Silver Snow because to me, that is the most depressing canon ending. 
> 
> See endnotes for warnings.

Edelgard was dead. Dorothea knew as soon as she saw the Professor walk out of the throne room, bloody sword hanging by their side. She’d been desperately trying to heal an injured Ferdie while Seteth cut down the Imperial reinforcements bearing down on them - were any of them people she had known? Had the opera company members survived Edelgard’s last, desperate gambit? For the past week, as they travelled to her home of old, and even through the battle, her mind had been filled with these thoughts, unable to focus. 

The Professor had always had an imposing presence, honed even further as they’d taken control of the remaining Church troops. After all, it was the aura of strength they’d always exuded that convinced Dorothea to leave a war-struck Empire with no need for songstresses to its own devices, and return to Garreg Mach in hopes of finding something she could believe in. When they pushed open the doors, the entire battlefield hung silent. 

“The Emperor is dead! All Imperial troops must surrender or face execution.”

Seteth’s voice rang out through the palace, and suddenly the silence was transformed into a rush of noise as cheers grew from the Knights and Church troops, as they turned the tables on the now-fleeing Imperial soldiers. 

Dorothea looked away.

\---------------------------------------

She’d thought that if they could have peace, Edelgard’s death might have been, if not a price worth paying, then at least not entirely pointless. But they’d apparently defeated Edelgard only to find yet more battles to fight, yet more enemies to kill. Dorothea went through Shambhala in a haze, paying very little attention to anything other than the injured bodies being shoved in front of her. 

It seemed that no one had thought of anything other than war for these five long years… but was she really the only one of the former Black Eagles to think it? If Edelgard had indeed been forced to cooperate with these underground dwellers, could they have helped her? If they had chosen to stay by her side, would things have turned out differently? 

Out of all them except for Hubert and Byleth, Dorothea had fancied herself the closest to Edelgard. Hubert, of course, had chosen to die for his liege’s dream, and Byleth… after they’d come back from wherever they’d gone, it seemed as though they’d forgotten ever having known the human being Edelgard, and only remembered brutal, conquering Emperor of Adrestia. 

Dorothea was, unfortunately, not built with such a heart of stone. 

When she’d first arrived at Garreg Mach, she had known what to expect. Just like the opera house, Garreg Mach would be filled with nobles, and she knew how to deal with nobles. Women looked at her and thought _gold-digging slut_ , while to men, she was _pretty enough, but not marriage material_. Her goal was to change that second impression, to become someone worthy of enough respect to merit being given a comfortable life.

Her only thought upon meeting icy cold Princess Edelgard had been to note that she should try to avoid her. If she had to deal with a class leader like the uppity, judgemental society wives who attended the opera, finding a good man would be even harder than it already was. But Edelgard made that very difficult.

After two weeks of running away whenever the princess appeared, she was stuck. The Professor had assigned them to clear the stables together. Unlike sky watch or weeding, the stables were small enough that it was impossible to avoid your partner. Before she could say something like “Let’s get to work,” which would stifle any attempt at conversation, Edelgard’s cold lavender eyes were looking directly at her, and she was confronted with -

“You’ve been avoiding me. I want to know why.”

Taken aback, Dorothea let out a nervous giggle.

“Well, you know, to a simple songstress like me, I suppose you’re quite intimidating. I’ve never been in the presence of royalty before, let alone royalty as beautiful as you!”

“Ah, I see…” Edelgard looked away, hesitant, but recovered herself quickly. “I just wanted to hear what you think of Garreg Mach so far. As a commoner, you’ll have a different perspective from the other Black Eagles. As your class leader, and even as future Emperor, isn’t it my job to take care of you?”

Dorothea knew she shouldn’t believe it. How many nobles, after all, had promised her all the gold and riches in the world _if you just sing one more song for me, darling_ , and how many times had she foolishly trusted them before realizing that if she wanted to live, she had to find a life worth living for herself? Yet something about Edelgard’s uncharacteristically earnest face was hard to say no to. 

Somehow, Dorothea found herself chatting with Edelgard whenever they had free time. She tried to distance herself, but then Edelgard would come to her with a question, asking with genuine interest about Dorothea’s life, and her experience as an Adrestian commoner. 

“When I’m Emperor…” she’d say, spinning tales of dismantling the nobility and valuing talent and hard work above all else, impossible tales that nevertheless captivated Dorothea. 

One day, the topic of their conversation turned to love, and when Edelgard said, “There is someone I’ve been thinking about lately,” Dorothea’s heart stopped. Then, “There’s a voice I can’t stop hearing,” Edelgard continued, and before she could do anything, there were cool lips on hers. 

When Edelgard pulled back, and shyly asked if it was alright, Dorothea nodded. But in her heart, she knew it wouldn’t last. Edelgard was the heir to the throne, the perfect, beautiful future Emperor. Even if her infatuation with Dorothea lasted, as Emperor she would not be able to marry for love. No matter what, Dorothea would inevitably be relegated to _not marriage material_ once again. 

However, she never imagined it would end with Edelgard’s hard eyes glaring at Rhea, ordering the Imperial army to attack. 

When Edelgard brought the Empire’s might onto the monastery, all Dorothea could think was that rather than a revolutionary, Edie had become the tyrant she’d claimed to abhor, fighting a war of ideology with the lifeblood of her helpless subjects. 

After that, after watching the people of the Empire suffer for five years, Dorothea had thought that she had let go of any old affection. Why was it that now, after all that remained of Edelgard was a trail of bodies, including her own, that Dorothea couldn’t stop thinking about her?

\---------------------------------------

The only one Dorothea could stand talking to was Felix. Though he was a complete moron in many ways, he had lost something similar to Dorothea in this war. At least with him, she didn’t have to pretend that everything was fine now that the war was over. 

Felix broke their usual routine of eating lunch in silence. “Sometimes I wonder - if I had been there, could I have stopped him? Could I have saved him?” 

“His revenge is complete. He can rest in peace.”

“Even so… Edelgard might be dead, but so are so many others - even Rhea. Thanks to the war, all of Fodlan will be short on food for years. The populations of the Empire and Kingdom are devastated. Dimitri, the real Dimitri, had his own ideals, as did Edelgard and even Claude, yet none of them achieved anything. In the end, Fodlan has all of the same problems that led to the war in the first place. How long will it be before the next one?” 

Dorothea closed her eyes, unable to respond to Felix’s uncharacteristically eloquent and insightful speech. In the end, both of them had made their choices, and now they were paying the price.

For Edelgard, unlike Dimitri, there would be no peace. She had died a villain’s death, and in the end, none of her grand ambitions had come to fruition. She'd never have the opportunity to atone for the blood her war had spilled. 

\---------------------------------------

Felix left soon after Rhea’s death, and even deigned to say goodbye to her, mumbling something about becoming a mercenary. Dorothea lingered, not sure what to do with herself, until she was the only one of the former students left. Seteth disapproved, but despite his stern words for her to do something with herself, the war had tired him too, and she knew he was ultimately too soft to throw her out. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to find something to do, she just couldn’t imagine how she could do anything. Edelgard had been Emperor, but ultimately even she had failed at achieving anything but bloodshed. What could someone like Dorothea do? 

After passing over a year at the monastery in a haze, she revisited the stables where she and Edelgard had had their first real conversation. Remembering Edelgard’s bright eyes meeting hers for the first time, she was seized by the sudden urge to visit Edelgard’s grave - Seteth and Rhea had wanted to burn the body, but in a fit of humanity the Professor had insisted on burying her. It wasn’t the Emperor’s burial she would’ve received, but she had a small, unmarked stone plaque on a cliff outside of Enbarr, overlooking the sea. 

Dorothea arrived, a small bouquet of bergamot in her arms. She laid the bundle onto the grass, and simply stood atop the cliff for some time. The wind blew ocean air into her face. A long time ago, she might have worried about her hair and skin drying out, but now she simply enjoyed the atmosphere, the salty spray mingling with her tears. 

Step by step, she began to walk forward.

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for implied suicide (nothing graphic, could be taken ambiguously).


End file.
